Ghosts That We Knew
by Skeeter-Vamp
Summary: "You saw my pain washed out in the rain Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart And you knelt beside my hope torn apart" A story about two broken, beaten, beautiful people and their fatal attraction. Will these two lovers break away and help make each other whole again? 'AU-No Walkers' M-RATING
1. A Strange Encounter

AUTHOR NOTE: - This is my very first TWD Fanfic! I am new at writing these so please excuse the few odd line breaks and I can definitely say I like writing between third and first person views. Please read and positively review! :) Enjoy the Caryl Ship!

_"__GHOSTS THAT WE KNEW"  
Chapter One - "A Strange Encounter"_

I could feel blood pouring down my dirty arm flowing towards my fingers and gravitating towards the greasy floor in the shop. "Damn…" I muttered with disgust. I had just ripped my entire length of my forearm pretty deep. Nothing life threatening but now the blood was getting all over my white t-shirt under my overalls. I dropped the wrench I had in my right hand and made my way towards the office attached to the front of "Dean's Mechanic Shop".

I sauntered in the small little waiting room up to the front desk where a pretty little lady with short gray hair was typing on a keyboard. She looked up in panic as she saw me standing there, and then gasped as she saw the obvious wound dripping on the tiled floor. She stood up with her hand across her mouth, just dumbfounded, not moving to help or anything. The look on her face, that pity, only pissed me off even more.

"What the hell are you doin' starin' there?! Git me something to clean up this damn mess up woman!" I barked in her face.

She, with a look of shame, scurried to the office closet and dug out a roll of paper towel, peroxide, some rags and the first aid kit. She sure straightened up fast, that little mouse. "Here," she almost whispered, like her words were even unsure of themselves.

"Could you pull the top of your overalls down so I can clean the wound?"

I nodded with a grunt and pulled my right arm out of its sleeve then carefully worked off the left side, which was now soaking with my blood. She let out another quieter gasp as she saw how huge the gash was. "It really looks like it needs stiches…" she muttered, and then looked up into my eyes.

"I could drive you to the hospital?" she started to offer but I interrupted "Ugh… No… I hate effing hospitals." "Okay then, well I could stich it up for you right here if you'd like?" she asked, feet shifting with nervousness. I scoffed "Yeah right, a little office gal like you wouldn't even begin to handle sumthin' like tha…" She cut me off with a curt shake of her head. "Just trust me," she placed a soft hand on my good arm's shoulder as she made that strong eye contact again. "I have plenty of experience." She assured.

Well I was fresh out of options anyways; no way was I going to go into a hospital for a stupid gash in my arm. I grunted in agreement with a nod. "As lon' as you go do me one quick favor firs'." I dug in my right pocket for my small set of keys and tossed them to her. "Go git me my damn whiskey out of my truck." She nodded with a smile and the tiniest of laughs as she walked out the front door.

I couldn't help but let out a small smile to myself as I watched the little mouse walk away.

_I couldn't help but laugh_ at the cute, gruff redneck mechanic trusting me to perform such a task; even though I had to brush off his blatant rudeness earlier. I caught his dirty set of keys and walked out the front door towards the shop's large parking lot.  
I scanned the parking lot and spotted a few nice, newer trucks, and then I saw a beat up old Ford pickup in the far corner of the parking lot with a bumper sticker that read "Keep Honking… I'm Reloading." _"That has to be it_." I thought to myself with another smile.

I peered in the rear and spotted a faded black crossbow with a few orange tipped arrows scattered throughout the truck bed. "Redneck for sure…" I muttered out loud and shook my head. I found the cab's key on the ring and slowly unlocked the passenger door, the cab was fairly empty, just a few takeout boxes and bags scattered about and a fox tail hanging on the rear-view mirror. I closed the door and walked over to the driver's side to feel around under the ratty old bench seat,

"There we go!" I grabbed the half empty bottle of 'Kentucky Straight' whiskey out of its hiding place. I re-locked the truck and headed back towards the shop's office, concealing the bottle under my light red jacket.

_ The mouse came back_ inside grinning from ear to ear, I couldn't figure out what had her wired, but I was betting it was my shit mess of a truck. "You laughin' at that POS beater out there?" I inquired and she responded with a giggle "No! No, I'm not laughing at your truck, in fact I like it. I'm just trying to figure out why on earth you carry whiskey on you at all times?" she smiled that damn smile again. I shook my head, pushing away her question and went to take a seat behind the front desk.

She set the bottle down on my right and I immediately took a quick swig. "You really know whatcha' doin' do ya?" I scoffed again. "Yes sir, don't go worrying." She assured while prepping the supplies and cleaning the needle.  
"You must be replacin' tha' last gal, I'm assumin'?" "Yes, Carly. Today's actually my first day…" she faded off quietly. "'Carly'? huh? Never knew er' name, she was quite a slut with all the other boys." I shook my head and took another small swig. "Guess ole' Dean had enough of er' shit and kicked her out." I concluded.

She smiled a small courteous smile, and then looked at me straight. "Okay, this may hurt a lot, considering I don't have anything here to numb it…" I raised my hand that was holding the whiskey. She laughed and shook her head "You ready?" I grunted my yes, as she took peroxide dipped cotton and began to clean around the wound. I grimaced and took another larger swig right as she placed the needle at the bottom of the gash.

Half way through she looked me right in the eyes and asked with concern "Are you sure you're alright?" "Yeah of course I'm fine! Damn, woman, no time for formalities, jus' finish tha' damn thing!" Her mouth curved down into a small frown. "Hurts like a bitch but it's really more annoying than anything. Don't have many clean shirts left…" he drifted "Oh?" The woman looked down at the man's left arm that she was stitching and notices no ring on the fourth finger. "You're not married?" She asked in wonder as he almost chokes on his whiskey "Aw hell naw' I ain't tied down to no damn ball an chain!" She hushed after that and finished her way up my arm, placing the final stitch and tie.

I looked over to the computer and saw the login name on the screen read "Carol", damn that was a pretty name for a little lady like her. "That name suits you." She looked up in shock out of her concentrated trance "What?" "I said that name of yours is very suiting." I let out a small smile and a nod. She looked down with a growing crimson on her cheeks. "Why thank you."

_His little compliment_ caught me off guard. I haven't been sincerely complimented by a member of the male gender, in a very, very long time. I just finished the final part of the stitch and was now unwrapping alcohol wipes to clean away the excess blood. I carefully finished up the job and nodded at him that I was finished. "Um, tha… thank you ma'am."

I smiled then got up to put away the supplies, while the mechanic was carefully putting his arm back into his sleeve. I looked out the window towards the front lot and saw a small sedan pulling up with customers. The man rose from my swivel chair and began to walk past me back towards the shop, when I stopped him. "I almost forgot! Didn't catch your name?" I inquired.

He stood still for a few seconds before responding. "Daryl." He growled in a low tone, and he continued to walk past me, when I saw, back turned in large letters across his shoulders on the jumpsuit was 'DIXON'.  
"Daryl Dixon… Interesting…" I smiled to myself as he walked off, and then turned to face the incoming patrons.


	2. Southern Summer

AUTHOR NOTE: - Thank you guys so much for the great responses to the first chapter! I am glad now to have shared it with you lovely Carylers! ;) Please enjoy and positively review! :) Long Live The Caryl Ship!

_Chapter Two - "Southern Summer"_

My first day was over before I knew it. I quickly swept up the small lobby and finished filing the last few papers away. I grabbed my new red jacket and headed out the front, locking the door behind me. I put my hand up to shade my eyes from the bright Georgia sun that was still beating down hard even though it was nearing Fall.  
I shuffled my feet towards my beat down 79' Jeep Cherokee, meanwhile looking towards the rear of the parking lot where the redneck from earlier was parked, but the spot was vacant "He wastes no time going anywhere does he?" I chuckled to myself as I opened my squeaky door and sat down in the worn out seat. I rubbed my eyes and said a silent prayer as I started up the car and headed back home. _"Thank you Lord for this blessing of a fresh job, and a new start on things. Amen."_

The drive only took about 15 minutes; I pulled the car slowly and quietly into the driveway trying to make the most minimal noise. I glanced down at the clock on the dash '6:45' I took a deep breath before exiting the car _'I still don't have anything planned for dinner and I just know Ed is going to be starving by now…'  
_The living room was dimly lit just by a small lamp behind Ed's lounge chair and the TV was loudly playing a recap on a wrestling match from earlier this afternoon. Strangely he wasn't where he normally is laying about the living room, so I took a moment to put away my red jacket and slip off my tattered shoes.

Just as I had entered the kitchen I felt his presence behind me. He roughly grabbed my left shoulder with his large hand. "Where in the hell have you been missy?" "At work Ed, you know today was my first day." I calmly responded, I turned around to face the man who was much taller than I, all the while trying to plaster a smile on my frightened face, terribly hard to do when you knew what was coming next. "I fucking know that bitch, don't patronize me…" He growled, "You said you'd be back at 6:15, and here you are 30 minutes late…" his voice lowered and he lifted up his right hand and slapped me across the cheek.  
I stifled a cry and had to fight the urge to grab my face. "I'm sorry…" I almost begged. "And where the fuck is my dinner!? I've been home for an hour and I'm starvin'!" he slapped me harder this time. I could feel my lip bust open, "What would you like hon?" "I said I'm starvin' didn' I? What do you think?" he growled again with anger shaking through his body, I quickly nodded and apologized once more and went to put on my coat and shoes once again and head towards the store.

_I couldn't wait_ to leave the shop today. As soon as I finished installing spark plugs in a top notch BMW, I split. Not that I could be very anxious to get home, not much to go back to other then my druggie drunk of a brother and usually whatever "flavor of the week" he had along with him.

My old Ford sputtered and clanked down the dirt driveway towards our so called "house". _"I definitely need to tune this puppy up."_ I made a mental note as I pulled up and parked. I made my way inside, all the while noting the two belts and needles on the coffee table. I headed over to the ice box and pulled out a chilled beer, popping the lid off in one fell swoop on the counter top.

The entire place was a huge piece of shit, not that that bothered me or Merle. We grew up in worse our whole life, so we can't really complain too much. But quite literally though, the floor was mostly torn up and there were holes in the wall from angry punches and parts of the ceiling were missing too. Still at least we had somewhat of working roof over our head and the rent was cheap.

I placed the rest of the beer on the counter and headed for the bathroom down the hall. I jiggled the handle but found it locked. "Hey Merle get yer ass outta there!" Upon closer inspection I could hear small moans coming from the locked room. "MERLE! Stop fuckin' that bitch I need ta clean mah arm up!" _"Great… so Merle and his whore are high and screwing on the counter… just what I wanted to deal with today…"_ "WHY DONTCHA MIND YOUR DAMN BUSINESS DARYLINA!" I shook off that annoying nickname he'd been calling me for years. "This is seriously getting old Merle! I need ta git in there now dammit!"

I walked back to get my beer and by the time I was done downing it, Merle and his company had made their way back to his room. I proceeded to carefully take off my mechanic jumpsuit and discard it into a pile of laundry that was beginning to reek. After a brief cold shower I took a close careful look at the stitching job that that little receptionist Carol had done and damned if it wasn't almost perfect. I rummaged around the cabinet for something to prevent infection and gauze. After another examination of it all bandaged up I departed the bathroom with my bath towel around my hips.  
Merle's girl was sitting on the couch in her bra and a pair of my brother's boxer shorts. I rounded the corner into the kitchen where Merle was cooking some cheap ass packaged pasta, "Who's the skank?" I asked my brother. He responded with a shrug, "Honestly baby bro, I don't remember her damn name…" he muttered then laughed a strong guttural laugh. "Really Merle… get a room, you gotta remember we only got one bathroom in dis place." "Oh shove it Daryl, I'm sick of yur bitchin'. You outta lighten up, maybe you wouldn't be so uptight if you git yourself a nice piece of ass." He laughed again "Fuck you Merle." I reached past him into the fridge again to grab another beer and turned on my heel and left back towards my room.

"What are you some kind of fag? Or are you just too marred up and ugly for any girl to want you?" The girl asked me on my way back past the couch "You know what?!" I started. "Why don't cha beat it ya whore?! I'm sure ya have another guy elsewhere to be screwin'. Freakin' bitch." She gapped like a fish at the insult and I slammed the door behind me. I dropped my towel and fished around in a pile of clothes till I found some clean boxer briefs. I flopped down on my hard mattress that was lying on the floor. We was always too poor to afford any bed frames or fancy furniture. In fact I didn't even have any damn bed sheets, only a holey warn out blanket and a dirty old pillow.

The stupid bitch out there on my couch just had to mention my scars, I should've known better then to walk out there without a shirt on. My piece of shit father Will Dixon, beat me senseless when I was younger. He gave Merle his fair share of beatings, but always saved the worst for me. This marred my body, leaving lifelong scars; constant reminders of my mistakes and shitty past.

Today had just been too much, I popped open my beer and took a quick swig. I dug underneath my clothes in my closet for my stash. I grabbed a porno mag from under my bed and smoothed it out on my lap. I popped open my bottle of Oxy and grabbed a small shard of Crank from my bag. I grabbed my wallet and scrimmaged around for a dollar bill to lie over the drugs and started grinding them to powder with the butt of my hunting knife. After mixing and rolling up the dollar bill as a straw; I took one large snort, using over half in one shot. I downed the rest of my beer and laid my head back, ready for the "Trailer Park Speedball" high.

_I rushed through_ the grocery store only picking up what I could possibly need for Ed's dinner tonight, figuring I would just make it out to the store tomorrow for the rest as long as the beating wasn't too bad and assuming I could walk. I hurried as fast as my feet would carry me through the store when I practically ran right into a store clerk stocking the shelves. I quickly avoided the collision, muttered my apology and carried onto check out, and then back to my dreaded husband I drove.  
I entered the house quietly shuffling my shoes off quickly and went straight into the kitchen to prepare the food. I muttered another apology to Ed as I walked by him on my way there, he grunted in response. He had already downed a few beers according the contents of the coffee table.

While Ed ate in front of the television I cleaned up the kitchen before indulging in my portion. Knowing good and well if I ate before the kitchen was spotless and the leftovers put away, then he may find another reason to lay his hands on me. I said another silent prayer while I finished wrapping the bowl of potatoes. _"Lord, again I thank thee for this new job and I ask thee now for protection tonight, that I may be safe and able to work again tomorrow. Amen." _To be honest I was scared to death that he would kill me one day. Scared, and almost desiring it at the same time. "No, Carol you must not think those thoughts! It's a sin and you know that!" I chastised myself.

I quickly downed my small meal and I quietly snuck up to Ed who had passed out from the beer thank the Lord. I cleaned the last of our dishes and recycled the beer bottles and made my way upstairs to the bedroom. I learned early on in our relationship how to be quiet and tiptoe. Just like a little _mouse_.


	3. Broken Crown

AUTHOR NOTE: - Another thanks for the positive reviews and the favs/followings! I am so happy that you guys are enjoying my little story that just won't leave my head. I've had this chapter written for a while but just haven't had time to post it. (A little sub-note, the broken up grammar used and not entire proper English is just my little version of "Dixon Speech") I hope you enjoy and Caryl on!

* * *

_Chapter Three - "Broken Crown"_

The following day was rough for Carol, her cheek was sore from the punishment she wrongfully received the previous night. As she got ready for work she made sure to sneak an ice pack here and there when Ed wasn't looking as to not show weakness. The ice really helped the swelling and sped up the healing process, thus removing the evidence of the beating. She finished applying her makeup and double checked to see if she could see the job Ed did on her last night.

She nodded at herself in her mirror and did her quiet pep talk she did every morning. "I am strong. I am a strong, independent woman and I am a good person." She shook her head "What am I kidding myself? If I was a good wife then why does Ed hurt me? What am I doing wrong God?" She looked up heavenwards pleading for an answer to her wrongdoing for a moment then carried on. She said her goodbyes to Ed and kissed him on the cheek, and left for the fifteen minute commute to work. She found herself looking towards the rear of the parking lot, but found no sign of Daryl's truck. She unlocked the main door and took her seat behind the front desk, then switched on the computer to begin her shift.

_Daryl awoke the next morning_, ignoring the vomit beside him on the floor, and noticing he had evidence of quite the dream about the woman from yesterday. "Man I need to get laid…" he muttered. He arose from his hard mattress and found the cleanest shirt he could find and pulled on his last fresh jumpsuit, making a note to go to the damn Laundromat after work. He made his way through the living area towards the kitchen. "Spose' Merle passed out in his room this time for once…" he thought out loud. He grabbed a box of corn flakes out of the cabinet and poured a bowl along with some almost sour milk. Looks like he'd need to make a trip to the store as well…

He made his way out of his shell of a home and carried on towards his truck, making the engine roar to life. "Need to fix this fuckin' thing too…" he sighed. The drive towards the mechanic's shop was a fairly long ways out. There were a few other shops closer to home but Dean was an old friend of the Dixons and was able to hire Daryl even though he didn't have any certified experience, he still was a kick ass self-taught mechanic. This Georgia morning was extremely warm for once in a very long time and it felt good on Daryl's tan skin. He unzipped the top of his jumpsuit as to not over heat and carried down the windy stretches of road.

As he was passing by a meadow he saw a gorgeous six point buck. He slowed his truck down to a stop and quietly exited the vehicle and grabbed his crossbow from the bed. He armed it noiselessly and made his way, sneaking towards the large creature. Figuring if he could nab this guy, it would feed the two of them for quite a few meals, and money was especially tight this summer. He'd have just enough time to load the animal up and take it back to Merle to skin and prep and still make it to work. He snuck along closer and closer, he almost had the shot till he accidently stepped just too hard on a fallen branch. The cracking noise echoed through the meadow and scared the buck away too fast for Daryl to get a clean shot. "DAMMIT!" he shouted and punched a nearby tree, letting out his anger that he had been building for far too long; resulting in busted knuckles on his left hand. "GAH! FUCK!" he drew his hand to his face to lick his wounds clean.

Trudging back to the truck he came across a patch of Cherokee Roses, freshly bloomed late in the summer. He thought back to a story his Ma used to tell him about the Trail Of Tears and the Cherokee Indians. Reminiscing, he remembered the new receptionist at work and the favor she did for him just yesterday. He took about five minutes and found the nicest, freshest one there and picked it. Back at the truck he deposited his crossbow and bolts back in the truck bed and found a beer bottle in the cab to place the rose inside. He finished the long drive and parked in his usual space, away from any other people or cars. Daryl was most certainly not the social killer that his brother was. He liked his own damn space, and he could deal with people, sure, he just didn't care to at all.

He crossed his fingers, trying, hoping, not to look like a damn fool as he walked quietly and cautiously through the front reception room towards the desk where Carol was sitting just like yesterday. He cleared his throat upon reaching the desk. She shot up straight in her rolling chair. "Sorry I didn't hear you come in!" she said quickly. "Oh um, yeah it's fine, didn't mean to frighten ya." He muttered with his head slightly turned down. He noticed far too quickly her bruised cheek and cut lip even through the makeup, he decided not to ask, it wasn't his place to.

"No it's fine, I was just concentrating on these files on the computer and they're just not making sense." "Oh? Here lemme' have a look." He made his way behind the desk, set down the bottle and bent down to look at the computer screen. "What's that?" she asked nodding her head towards the bottle and flower. "Um, well it's stupid and shit and I don't know… I saw the damn thing this morning and thought of how nice ya were to me yesterday and how much of a dick I was, that I thought I could give it to ya as a peace offerin' or somethin', as an apology I guess…" he faded off, face down and a slight crimson on his cheeks.

See Dixons are tough sons of bitches and they do not under any circumstance apologize unless they really fucking have to or are just making one up just to get by or sucker outta some situation. She was grinning ear to ear after hearing the redneck speak and show kindness, she hasn't seen from much of anyone in a very long time. "Really? You didn't have to do anything Daryl, but this really was sweet of you." She smiled again. Somewhere, deep down inside, Daryl felt like that smile would be the death of him. "Tis' nothin'" he shook off his embarrassment and went back to concentrating on the computer. "Ah, here's yer problem." He pointed to the screen and showed her how to fix the invoices and why it happened.

"Sweet! Thank you so much again." "Yah, I'll be um, seeing ya then ma'am." He shuffled off quickly out to the shop.  
-

The day passed quickly for Daryl, before he knew it he was wiping the grease off his hands a final time that day and was clocking out and climbing back into his truck. He didn't see the woman again that day, at all cost he tried not to have to go back into the waiting area and see her. If she smiled at him again today he swore he would've lost his fuckin' mind.

He took his truck back to him and Merle's place and parked under the big oak tree for shade. Merle's bike was missing, figuring he went out for a cruise, he sighed relief to finally be alone for a while today. He went inside and changed into his ratty, grease monkey pants and opted for no shirt. He propped open the hood to his truck and began diagnosing and working away on the hot machine. Adding fluid here and tightening bolts there, it was almost therapeutic for him, it's what he knew best, it's what he loved.

_Carol had made for damn sure_ that she would make it back to Ed before too long, he had texted her and told her they'd be going out to dinner that night with a client of his, and that she needed to be back home immediately to clean up and dress nicely, for him to show her off as his trophy wife. Ed and Carol went through these viscous cycles of fighting, to him acting like a nice husband and her believing that he actually was, that is, until he beat her senseless right around the corner again. She drove like a bat out of hell to get home as quickly as possible.

She hurried inside and went right to her and Ed's room to get dressed in a little black cocktail dress with her satin high heels. The only time she was allowed to wear anything like this at all was when she was with her husband and with _HIS_ permission only. Carol tried her very best to please the man, but especially as of late it seemed like nothing she did would suffice. As she finished dressing, she went into the bathroom to apply her makeup very carefully over the bruising and extra bright red lipstick to cover the scab on her lips. She fixed up her hair and looked herself over with extreme care before leaving to see if Ed would approve of her. After he is ready they both head out in Ed's truck back into town, they didn't live but about ten minutes from downtown, in the outskirts.

They parked the truck outside of a small Italian restaurant that had outdoor seating set up for those tourists who wanted to enjoy some sunshine. See, Ed knew how to put up the nice guy front and make anyone he'd meet believe that he was living the dream life, had a wife that he loved and a fantastic house, but all of that was bullshit. He was a professional bullshitter. He did construction and home development planning as well as the construction process itself. After they had met the new client, they set down at the tables outside and ordered food and talked about this rich man's plans for a seasonal house in nearby Florida.

_Daryl took a quick shower_ after finishing tuning up his Ford F-250 Truck. Got dressed in literally his last semi-decent clean shirt and put back on his grease pants and began to pack up his and Merle's laundry to take down to clean while he went and got groceries. He placed Merle's clothes in one washer, his in the one adjacent and his work jumpsuits in a separate machine. He deposited the quarters and headed to the grocery store across the street a ways.

On his way back, carrying two bags full of meat, veggies and milk in one arm and two 12 packs of beer in his other hand down the street towards his truck, he noticed Carol sitting outside at that new Italian restaurant. She looked drop dead gorgeous; it took every ounce of strength and muscle in his body to keep from dropping his groceries and looking like a fucking dunce in front of everyone. She was sitting with two other men, one across the table who was talking loudly with his hands and was smiling, the other was sitting right next to her who had his hand on her lap like he was keeping her in place, keeping her from running in the opposite direction; like he owned her…

Fuck, that guy made him extremely uncomfortable, and from the looks of it, made her uncomfortable as well. He quickly turned away, not wanting her to notice him standing there staring, but before he fully did, their eyes met and he could've sworn hers were saying _"Help me"_….

I didn't know what to do, so I did what I've done since I was a child, what I was beat until I did. I minded my own damn business and carried on my way. Once Daryl reached the Laundromat he let out an audible sigh and deposited the groceries in the cab of the truck and went in to collect the clean laundry and head home. Far, far away from her.

_The dinner was nice_ but the client was definitely pissing off Ed, even though he didn't really show it, Carol could tell. He had extravagant dreams, and those dreams were what Ed and she would never have, and that made him angry; anger that he would later take out on her already worn down body. She couldn't get out of there quickly enough. He had his hands near, if not on, her all night and she hated being touched by him anymore. At first she really did think that she loved this man, but now she's learned that his touches never have been backed by love, only hate. Hate, anger, violence and all things _mean_.

She was trying to distract herself all night from his presence, his hand in her lap most of the entire dinner. She wanted out. She wanted to go home and curl up in a ball and be under the warm covers. She wanted her beating to already be done and over for the day so she didn't have to dread it anymore.  
Carol was focusing on the client and he really was quite the enthusiast. The man couldn't sit still, moving his hands to and fro as he discussed his grand plans.

However something caught her attention as she sat watching the man. The mechanic, Mr. Dixon, was walking down the sidewalk with his hands full of groceries and drinks. At first she did a double take, trying to deny the fact that she just recognized him from behind without his jumpsuit on. He was wearing a tight white worn down shirt and dirty, greasy pants and boots. You could clearly see his muscles trying to bust through the seams of the sleeves. She couldn't help but look at him.

He must've seen me as he walked past because he had already been looking by the time my eyes met his. He turned back quickly and sped up his pace walking away.

My only chance of getting out of here, just left. 


End file.
